DEAR HOLLYWOOD,
When you do the
Petraeus pentangle affair, it should be a decadent fit of cheeky social
commentary, authorial conceit and sumptuous production and – a Greek tragedy
pastiche.
Not a satire,
sincere, and not just emotionally. Wholly, done with reverence not deference or
snark (more Cohen brothers’ Homer than Baz Luhrmann’s Shakespeare) and though
tragic, not painful to watch. If Rossellini neorealism and Minnelli
theatricality had led not to the nouvelle vague but to a Winchester
mansion-esque, fictional cinema verité – “Petraeus the King” would be its
contemporary lighthouse. Hollywood, let’s rewrite film history.
Let’s re-imagine
the recent past, depict (real) tragedy without sacrificing humor – entertain,
edify and open dialogue by cleverly selecting from the devices of classical
dramatic storytelling. Be honest, Hollywood, the pentangle idea has been
discussed.
The chasseurs
and critical saboteurs will drool onto their keyboards in anticipation of the
mere announcement of a Petraeus project and continue to salivate through
production and into theaters. It’s one for the wolves … but what if it works?
Proposed title:
“Petraeus the King”
Pre-treatment
synopsis: see below
Dream
writer/director/production design team: writers
Lee Hall and David (or Brandon) Cronenberg, director
Tom Hooper, Abbas Kiarostami or David Cronenberg, production design Amy
Wells and Dan Bishop
Thanks for
reading and best regards,
A Hopeful,
Mirthful Moviegoer
SYNOPSIS
Prologue
In 1950, the auspicious last middle-century-year of the old millennium, Generals Petraeus and Allen’s fathers cross paths in Washington D.C. – Petraeus Sr. is a foreigner, Allen a native. They take shelter from a storm in a crowded restaurant and share the only open table and the last blue plate special, which Petraeus offers to buy.
Their discussion is unencumbered and lively. Midway through the meal Petraeus discovers that his wallet is missing but is too shamed to admit the truth. Allen pays for the meal graciously and Petraeus parts, bent as his storm-worn umbrella. Allen then admits he’d never trusted the foreigner.
Unknowingly, the men had lunched in a cafeteria owned by the Central Intelligence Agency, established a few years prior, who’s motto: "And ye shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free" was, along with the Divine Mandate of Hospitality, violated by the travelers.
The Fates appear. For deception and vanity, and defiance foul of a noble if nominal truth dictum, the Fates foretell of the Petraeus family’s damnation by dishonesty and for hubris and transgression of sacred Hospitality law that the Allen family is cursed to have a great trust withdrawn from them by the state.
Plot
General Petraeus returns from a storied campaign quieting violence in foreign lands to a new post in the nation of his birth. The Chorus sings that Petraeus is as much a national symbol of strength and talent, as to those closest to him and that by his side always are men and women of intelligence and competence, aids, stewards, guards, court members and colleagues, his wife, and the other woman who loves him.
At home, Petraeus confesses to a steward that public and private disingenuousness unmask and beleaguer him. The steward, a CIA man, and the brother of Petraeus’ lover, replies that sanctioned and illicit unions unravel hourly, love and lust abound, and advises Petraeus to nurse his ills internally and silently.
Sibling, lover, athlete, and court historian – Paula Broadwell – enters. She and Petraeus go for a brisk walk around the grounds where she talks of being raised a citizen, scholar and fighter – the equal of her brother or any person. Later, the Petraeus family gathers in a warm scene, preparing to go out for the night.
At a celebration thrown by General Allen and his wife a woman with a deranged countenance, Natalie the Mad Woman, approaches Allen and Petraeus and their spouses and warns: of double speak and double deeds senseless and vile, trust and time misplaced and honor defaulted. She then recites something remarkably like the opening stanzas of Fleurs du Mal, calls the attendees “sexist trout,” tries to grab Allen’s side arm and is escorted out.
Elsewhere, Jill, the Mad Woman’s sister, speaks privately with a man in a shirtless costume with an FBI crest. She smiles tiredly to his romantic overtures before rejoining her husband, Lord Kelley and Generals Allen and Petraeus, leaving the shirtless man to watch from a recess. Suddenly, a captain reporting urgent news interrupts Petraeus. They step outside. Petraeus gives orders and dismisses the man, where Paula wordlessly joins him and takes his hand.
Inside, General Allen’s wife Katherine informs him of a fearsome plot; he tells Petraeus that there are present threats, beyond the constant malevolent palaver – to the realm and to imperial leaders and their families – and that the threat comes from Mr. Broadwell, the husband of Petraeus’ lover.
Lady Allen also informs Jill Kelley of the threat. After some days Jill, despite the discomfort, requests the company of the shirtless agent to ask for his assistance. General Allen and Lord Kelley witness the meeting and seeing desire in the shirtless man’s eyes Lord Kelley agrees it prudent for Allen to send Jill thousands of pages of emails, with the aim of discovering the full nature of Jill’s relationship with the shiftless agent.
Although his affections are unreturned, the agent consents to keep vigilant watch over the Broadwells, Mr. and Mrs., to glean signs of a coup and hopefully earn the love of Lady Kelley. He discovers – in addition to the Petraeus/Broadwell affair – the thousands of pages of emails and, suspecting a romance, is thrown into a jealous fugue. In his altered state the shirtless agent brutally murders three peasants and delivers a frightful soliloquy on torture.
Allen looks up from his pursuit of truth on behalf of Lord Kelley and finds his actions incriminating and wasteful; he tells his wife and the Kelleys, “Women should be trusted.” That night Jill Kelley commits suicide by poison, leaving a note: It is insufferable to generalize about women, or men.
At the Petraeus home, husband and wife discuss the latest intelligence related to the feared plot, when Lady Petraeus links facts to evidence incriminating their steward, the CIA man, and Paula’s brother, as the originator of seditious whispers. Petraeus asks his son to deliver the steward into custody, during which time the steward divulges his sister’s affair with the young man’s father. Paula arrives at the prison unnoticed by the general’s son running home in a feverish thrall. She steps behind the bars beside her brother in a final haunting tableau vivant.
Upon confronting his father and hearing the hearsay confirmed, the young Petraeus is so enraged he topples a bookcase, causing its contents to break and accidentally sending a shard of glass into his mother’s heart. Petraeus holds his dying wife and weeping son and says, “I am at fault. I am damned.”
Allen conceals the suicide that occurred at his residence and is arrested by the shirtless FBI agent’s bosses, the shirtless oligarchy, and the emperor, who delays his promotion. The last death of the last act is Jill the Mad Woman’s who runs to General Allen’s feet, stabs herself and relates – in perfect iambic trimeter – that the whole world is mad and that we love only spectral reflections of ourselves.
As the curtains close a Chorus member somberly emerges from the group, identifies himself as Leon Panetta, points to the audience and orders an ethical inquiry.
In 1950, the auspicious last middle-century-year of the old millennium, Generals Petraeus and Allen’s fathers cross paths in Washington D.C. – Petraeus Sr. is a foreigner, Allen a native. They take shelter from a storm in a crowded restaurant and share the only open table and the last blue plate special, which Petraeus offers to buy.
Their discussion is unencumbered and lively. Midway through the meal Petraeus discovers that his wallet is missing but is too shamed to admit the truth. Allen pays for the meal graciously and Petraeus parts, bent as his storm-worn umbrella. Allen then admits he’d never trusted the foreigner.
Unknowingly, the men had lunched in a cafeteria owned by the Central Intelligence Agency, established a few years prior, who’s motto: "And ye shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free" was, along with the Divine Mandate of Hospitality, violated by the travelers.
The Fates appear. For deception and vanity, and defiance foul of a noble if nominal truth dictum, the Fates foretell of the Petraeus family’s damnation by dishonesty and for hubris and transgression of sacred Hospitality law that the Allen family is cursed to have a great trust withdrawn from them by the state.
Plot
General Petraeus returns from a storied campaign quieting violence in foreign lands to a new post in the nation of his birth. The Chorus sings that Petraeus is as much a national symbol of strength and talent, as to those closest to him and that by his side always are men and women of intelligence and competence, aids, stewards, guards, court members and colleagues, his wife, and the other woman who loves him.
At home, Petraeus confesses to a steward that public and private disingenuousness unmask and beleaguer him. The steward, a CIA man, and the brother of Petraeus’ lover, replies that sanctioned and illicit unions unravel hourly, love and lust abound, and advises Petraeus to nurse his ills internally and silently.
Sibling, lover, athlete, and court historian – Paula Broadwell – enters. She and Petraeus go for a brisk walk around the grounds where she talks of being raised a citizen, scholar and fighter – the equal of her brother or any person. Later, the Petraeus family gathers in a warm scene, preparing to go out for the night.
At a celebration thrown by General Allen and his wife a woman with a deranged countenance, Natalie the Mad Woman, approaches Allen and Petraeus and their spouses and warns: of double speak and double deeds senseless and vile, trust and time misplaced and honor defaulted. She then recites something remarkably like the opening stanzas of Fleurs du Mal, calls the attendees “sexist trout,” tries to grab Allen’s side arm and is escorted out.
Elsewhere, Jill, the Mad Woman’s sister, speaks privately with a man in a shirtless costume with an FBI crest. She smiles tiredly to his romantic overtures before rejoining her husband, Lord Kelley and Generals Allen and Petraeus, leaving the shirtless man to watch from a recess. Suddenly, a captain reporting urgent news interrupts Petraeus. They step outside. Petraeus gives orders and dismisses the man, where Paula wordlessly joins him and takes his hand.
Inside, General Allen’s wife Katherine informs him of a fearsome plot; he tells Petraeus that there are present threats, beyond the constant malevolent palaver – to the realm and to imperial leaders and their families – and that the threat comes from Mr. Broadwell, the husband of Petraeus’ lover.
Lady Allen also informs Jill Kelley of the threat. After some days Jill, despite the discomfort, requests the company of the shirtless agent to ask for his assistance. General Allen and Lord Kelley witness the meeting and seeing desire in the shirtless man’s eyes Lord Kelley agrees it prudent for Allen to send Jill thousands of pages of emails, with the aim of discovering the full nature of Jill’s relationship with the shiftless agent.
Although his affections are unreturned, the agent consents to keep vigilant watch over the Broadwells, Mr. and Mrs., to glean signs of a coup and hopefully earn the love of Lady Kelley. He discovers – in addition to the Petraeus/Broadwell affair – the thousands of pages of emails and, suspecting a romance, is thrown into a jealous fugue. In his altered state the shirtless agent brutally murders three peasants and delivers a frightful soliloquy on torture.
Allen looks up from his pursuit of truth on behalf of Lord Kelley and finds his actions incriminating and wasteful; he tells his wife and the Kelleys, “Women should be trusted.” That night Jill Kelley commits suicide by poison, leaving a note: It is insufferable to generalize about women, or men.
At the Petraeus home, husband and wife discuss the latest intelligence related to the feared plot, when Lady Petraeus links facts to evidence incriminating their steward, the CIA man, and Paula’s brother, as the originator of seditious whispers. Petraeus asks his son to deliver the steward into custody, during which time the steward divulges his sister’s affair with the young man’s father. Paula arrives at the prison unnoticed by the general’s son running home in a feverish thrall. She steps behind the bars beside her brother in a final haunting tableau vivant.
Upon confronting his father and hearing the hearsay confirmed, the young Petraeus is so enraged he topples a bookcase, causing its contents to break and accidentally sending a shard of glass into his mother’s heart. Petraeus holds his dying wife and weeping son and says, “I am at fault. I am damned.”
Allen conceals the suicide that occurred at his residence and is arrested by the shirtless FBI agent’s bosses, the shirtless oligarchy, and the emperor, who delays his promotion. The last death of the last act is Jill the Mad Woman’s who runs to General Allen’s feet, stabs herself and relates – in perfect iambic trimeter – that the whole world is mad and that we love only spectral reflections of ourselves.
As the curtains close a Chorus member somberly emerges from the group, identifies himself as Leon Panetta, points to the audience and orders an ethical inquiry.
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